Part I. Leaving Mauritania

The look on their faces will be in my memories forever. Mouth open, eyes wide, eyebrows raised… shocked is understood in every language. The beginnings of my interactions were fairly normal, catching up with people and telling them about my July vacation to America. I held my information in like a dirty secret, not wanting to ruin the few normal moments I had with my friends and family. How could I tell people I was only in town again for a day before I left Aleg – maybe for good? How could I tell them that Peace Corps deemed their country, their home, to dangerous for me to live in?
I sat with Rubia in her small steamy house discussing how she looked so good now. She was finally getting her baby glow, thankfully released out of the sickly state she was struggling in when she first found out she was pregnant. At my host family’s house, I held Siyad in my arms and let his tiny weight sink into my chest. I showed him the pictures I brought back from the states and he focused on a photo of me, him and his sister Meriem. “Where’s Jamila?” Dedehi, my host mom asked, referring to me by my Mauritanian name. Siyad smiled at me from my arms and pointed at my face on the picture before us. I greeted my friends in the street and they asked how my vacation was, wanting to know all the new news. My friends Binta and Aicha sat me down and let me hold Binta’s new absolutely adorable baby as they started the three rounds of tea. Kellybelly’s family welcomed me into their house my final evening and she was so excited to see me, she hugged and kissed me, pulling me away to look into my face, and then back into her big soft body.
When I actually let go of the happy reunions and revealed my news, my head hurt and the lump in my throat grew. When I saw Zeinabou, one of my best friends in country, my heart just broke. We had been in communication and she knew the news before I saw her. She hugged my body close to hers and told me never to forget her. When we pulled away, there were tears in both our eyes. Rubia looked at me speechless, and asked again and again if I was joking. Dedehi’s bright light dimmed and her usual smile was lost for a while. Binta and Aicha shook their heads and told me it was such a bad time for Mauritania – and to not remember them in relation to the poor government and terrorist activities. Kellybelly just stared at me in the dark night, she barely even said goodbye, just whispered incoherent things as I walked out her compound door. When I called Fatou, my beloved roommate, my voice cracked as I told her I wouldn’t even get to see her before I left – as she was currently taking her vacation. “Non…non… C’est pas vrai…” She muttered.
I stood on the roof of my house and stared out at Aleg as the sun set, closing my final day in that wonderful town. As the sky turned deep pink and people below me shuffled by with bags of dinner supplies, I said my silent goodbyes to those I couldn’t get in contact with, and to all the places I had learned to love. On one side, my school was silent in its summer break glory, and it hurt to think of my students wondering where I was come October. On the other side, the town stretched through the sand and it was odd to think I would never walk through the streets again.
I took one last picture with Rubia and Dedehi, and Dedehi grabbed our hands and put them in the middle. “All together…” She told me, squeezing my hand and giving me her brilliant smile. Leaving Mauritania, I lost a lot… But, in only a year, I gained more. Saying goodbye to Mauritanians, to my volunteer friends, to staff and to organizations I had worked with was difficult. It will stand as one of the hardest most frustrating times I’ve experienced. But, I learned so much – and still, I have so much to teach. After looking through options, I accepted a teaching position in Rwanda, continuing my Peace Corps service in a new country. I am exited to see how a different piece of Africa can open my eyes. I was humbled and speechless when I opened my email account sitting in a cyber café in rainy Rwanda and I saw 3 emails from Mauritania friends. They all had similar themes, saying they missed me, saying it was so sad to see me go, that my students and co-workers were asking where I was… but then something new.
“Tell me Ashley… What is Rwanda like? Are the people nice? Is it different from Mauritania?”
What an opportunity. I look forward to answering their questions.